Innkeeper's Blues - Jaime Samms

Chapter One

The peculiar silver-blue glow of dawn bouncing off snow glittered its way past the last veil of sleep and into Lucky’s brain. “Millie, close the curtains, will you?”

Not surprisingly, nothing happened. Mildred, after all, was a house, not a maid. While she was perfectly capable of making her opinions known, she wasn’t automated or haunted. The curtains remained exactly where they were.

Sun streamed across the pillows, and Lucky flung out an arm to thwack it across Kreed’s chest. The move, designed to make Kreed roll out of bed and save them from the relentless dawn, failed.

His arm fell on an empty mattress.

“What time is it?” No one answered. “Sun’s up,” he muttered. “That’s late, right?”

A tiny weight walked across his groin with enough pressure on his bladder to banish the last thought of going back to sleep.

“I’m up, I’m up.”

Purring ensued, along with kneading paws pricking through his T-shirt to his chest.

“Tyrant,” he muttered, setting the cat aside and getting out of bed. “You’re lucky you’re so cute, Miss Emma. Lucky indeed.”

Emma followed him across the room, out the door, and into the bathroom, tail high, head up, voice adamant.

“Don’t even,” Lucky warned her. “He’s up, so I know he fed you. You have him under your tiny little paw.”

She sat in the middle of the room, yawning and watching him pee, then delicately traipsed in his wake towards the kitchen.

Kreed sat at the breakfast counter in the kitchen with his computer, intent on an article about the last person on earth Lucky ever wanted to see again—Kreed’s ex, Joe Ferrell. A cheerful “good morning” died in his throat.

Holding back the urge to slap the computer closed at least, Lucky instead went to the coffee maker and poured two cups. He carried them both to the counter next to Kreed, and after a moment of serious debate over dumping one of them over Kreed’s head, placed it on the counter at his elbow. The soft click of the ceramic mug on the stone countertop made Kreed jump.

“Hey.” Kreed glanced around, stopping just short of slamming his laptop closed himself. He left it halfway open and swivelled to face Lucky.

“What are you doing?” Keeping a careful few feet of space between them so Kreed couldn’t distract him by touching him, Lucky leaned a hip on the counter and scratched at his scalp, trying to straighten his sleep-mussed hair.

“Oh, you know.” Kreed flashed a smile that barely made it past his beard as he waved at the computer.

“If I knew, I wouldn’t ask.”

“Research. Supplies. That kind of thing.” He picked up the mug and lifted it in salute, slopping some of the hot liquid onto the floor. “Thanks for the coffee.” Moving fast—and he always managed to move faster than Lucky expected—he leaned forwards, hooked a finger in Lucky’s belt loop, and yanked him close. “Sleep well?”

“Until I woke up under the glare of a thousand strobes and realized my man wasn’t in bed with me anymore. What’s going on?”

“Oh. I forgot to close the curtains again.”

“You think?”

“Sorry.”

“So.” Lucky turned the computer part way towards him so he could see it, but Kreed pushed it the rest of the way closed and left his hand on it.

“Just doing some preliminary research. Stuff for the Cabin.”

“Kreed.” Allowing Kreed to pull him close meant Lucky could lean on Kreed’s solid thigh and not the hard counter. Still, he studied his lover closely.

“Lucky.” Kreed wrapped one arm around Lucky’s waist while he sipped his coffee and blinked innocently over the rim of his mug.

“I came in the room five minutes ago. You were so interested in whatever you were reading you didn’t even notice me. Which would hurt my feelings if I didn’t know how one-track you get when you’re reading, so usually, I let it slide.”

“So I’m very interested in the Cabin and supplying it. Is that a problem?”

“Stop.” Lucky stood straighter, backing up enough he could spin Kreed’s stool, giving him room to stand between his legs. “I saw Joe’s face on the screen, so what were you reading? Because I know he couldn’t give two shits about the Cabin. Lord knows, if he wanted to help shelter gay kids, he would not have dragged me and my friends through the media spotlight over what Mackenzie did to us.”

“I didn’t want you to get mad.”

“I’m not mad. Yet. But I’m not going to get less mad if you keep giving me the runaround. Now spill.”

Kreed sighed. “I was checking the news. Joe’s gone